


Glory

by loveiscosmicsin



Category: FF15, FFXV - Fandom, Final Fantasy 15, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: FFXV Spoilers, First Time, IgNoct, Implied Sexual Content, Love Epiphany, Love Hurts, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 03:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12740520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveiscosmicsin/pseuds/loveiscosmicsin
Summary: It's okay, it's okay. The Stars are watching over you. And in this case, that's a very horrible thing.





	Glory

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still terrible at what category and tags I should write my fics in. But if I'm missing anything, I'm willing to include them.

The Stars had plans for the King of Kings. A debt that must be paid in blood, one that required a sacrifice of a benevolent soul.  
  
Ignis' heart couldn't let go.

Why couldn't it be him? If only he knew. There was no mercy in the knowledge or naught of. It was to be.  
  
For all the things Ignis wished to say have gone unsaid, he surrendered. For all the love he held in his heart, the air smoldering his lungs, and the words he supplied time and time again, were far too adequate, too brittle, and simply not enough to shift a galaxy. Ignis' love was too great, but it wasn't enough; quietly snuffing the flame of envisioned happy endings and the wait was truly worth all the suffering. Love would never be enough.  
  
Noctis' will was absolute, indomitable; he need not say for what he was prepared to do — the world would have its King of Light and damn the world for it. Even as Ignis' fingers swept over ribs with spaces too wide and unnatural, skin so malleable that he feared would come off like clay onto his hands, and hair so coarse that it bore likeness to the soot that infected the sky, the strategist speculated whether the Gods and Old Kings had chosen right vessel.

The right to that “honor”, in Ignis’ mind, wasn’t measured in the weight of strength, rather there was something sinister and darker at hand than he could comprehend.  
  
The Six have always had its eyes on Noctis, in hibernated slumber and in their wake, over the Lucis Caelum lineage for as long as time had been recorded. The Lucian kings had gave anything and everything that the world demanded of them, and they too, ended up consumed by their ideals and what remained of them turned to ash. Thirteen monarchs, the divine had already created many great heroes and could easily make another. An array of more than worthy candidates to pick from and they chose one mortal molded from stardust and clay, his dear Noctis.  
  
They knew that Noctis would come to bear the fate of the world like the Archaeon who caught and shouldered the meteorite into stasis. They also knew the risk of gifting one with immense power carried consequences far from infallible such as the Infernian who sought a bloody conquest to crush all they held dear. Yet, they settled on a king with the purest of hearts and would allow himself to be impaled by duty.  
  
Once the Gods received what they wished from their savior, there would be nothing left of Noctis, but a shell of what he once was.  
  
The fear of losing Noctis constricted Ignis' airways, turned his blood to ice, and sent him to a spiraling frenzy. He had already lost him once, it cannot happen again. Futile thoughts turned to prayers to sacrilegious groveling, begging just this once to let Noctis be his, no matter the price, even bargained to be the one to take his place. Proud as he was, he wouldn't hesitate to beg. Ignis wished for Noctis to stay among the living as the man he was, not the man who was to live on in his heart.

The Gods would not hear one word of it; Ignis had already bargained his life once, appealing to what they desired and earning their aid.

There was nothing more that they wanted from him.  
  
There was a shining and iridescent moment, one of clarity or perhaps of warped delusions. Ignis inhaled the sulfur on Noctis' breath and in spite of this, he tasted clouds and sunlight on his lips and immediately afterwards, the rush of air and splashes of sea spray on his tongue. It reminded him of two places: Altissia, where Ignis nearly lost his life and in Galdin Quay, where he fled to shut himself from the rest of the world. Both places where he never escaped Noctis. 

  
It gave him pause and raised a concern that it was taken too far, life and death on the line and too close for comfort. Noctis' breath was wound like a string about to snap so Ignis carefully drew his lips under the king's eyes and it didn't matter how he lost track of time when the tears began and finally stopped flowing. He wouldn't just offer solace, but everything that he couldn't express with words. Noctis' fingers found purchase in Ignis’ flesh, and it hurt, but the pain had been worth it, filling in the void of what had been missing after all this time. It was a reminder that they were alive.  
  
Ignis' skin burned under Noctis, sparks raised without striking a flame and Ignis' limbs branched out and anchored his lover, rooted and unrelenting. On the strategist's lips were chants of his king's name as he was brought over the edge and mind filled with nothing but of him. Sorrow and pleasure were a double-edged sword, and with every swing the tumultuous emotions cut the both of them deep. It was easy to pretend, to forget. In this life, they were two souls too stubborn to face reality at that moment.  
  
They laid there spent and restless, silence an icy, frigid blanket over their cooling bodies as they fought not to think of the time that had passed and what little remained of it. Once, they thought time as everlasting, and now, every second desired was like squeezing blood from a stone, impossible. Finally, the mattress squeaked, Ignis needn't eyes to know the cause of it. The battle was lost. Paradise was at its end.  
  
If Ignis let him go, Noctis would walk willingly toward the gallows, never to return. The Citadel wasn't far off and with each step, Ignis would have a hand in tightening the noose around the Chosen King's neck, sentencing him to death. But Ignis would never abandon him, he wasn't in the minority for the notion either; for as long as Noctis would allow it, he would continue this path at his side.  
  
Even if he lost himself in the end.


End file.
